Beneath the Balcony
by Random Tea Room
Summary: If someone asked him to sum up their relationship, to tell them when he knew that this was a forever kind of thing, that she was as all-in as he was, he would remember this night and smile. Post 698, ShikaTema drabbles


Title: Beneath the Balcony

Summary: If someone asked him to sum up their relationship, to tell them when he knew that this was a forever kind of thing, that she was as all-in as he was, he would remember this night and smile.

Note: Cheers to 700 and for ShikaTema being canon! Here's some shameless fluff. There will be more to come.

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><p>He always knew, he claims to her years later. Always knew that they'd make it. He knew that he could win her over. After all, he had the brains – he just needed a desire to put them to work, and he found that in her not long after they met.<p>

He didn't tell her that in the beginning, he had his doubts. Doubts because she was powerful and cunning and gorgeous, and he was, well, complicated mix of motivation and the lack thereof.

He had his doubts even after they started seeing each other.

At least, until a certain night.

If someone asked him to sum up their relationship, to tell them when _he knew_ that this was a forever kind of thing, that she was as all-in as he was, he would remember this night.

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><p>Shikamaru found himself staring at the ceiling with an alarming sense of panic that told him someone was watching him. His eyes flicked to the window, and he noticed the latch was bent at an odd angle. Reaching under his pillow for a weapon and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he nearly fell over when he saw who was standing before him.<p>

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked with more exasperation than concern, setting his dagger on the stand beside his bed. He reached unconsciously for the hair tie, but she grabbed his wrist.

"I needed to see you," she told him matter-of-factly, with that assuming tone of superiority she had when she was hiding something – or maybe that was just her, and he was just so tired that he couldn't process what was happening. But his curiosity and confusion faded away as she moved on top of him, taking his other wrist with her other hand.

Usually she would tease an aggressive streak out of him, playful and taunting, but tonight, she worked reverently, kissing wherever she could as quickly as she could. And she wouldn't look at him.

That was what did it.

"Stop," he told her, struggling to sit up, but she ignored it. Her hands shook as they moved along his neck and over his collarbones.

And then he said her name, softly, carefully, so that she looked up from where her lips were pressed against his abdomen.

"I – " she tried to begin, but she choked on the words, and two tears rolled down her cheeks. She seemed confused that she was crying.

Tenderly, he touched her face and pulled her up to sit across from him. He took her hands (cold and still shaking) and waited. She didn't speak.

"Is everyone okay?" he prompted finally, concern starting to set in. She nodded, taking her hands away.

"I need you to be honest with me," she told him finally, her voice still smaller than he was used to.

Suddenly, a feeling of dread overcame him.

"Are you breaking up with me?" he said, his voice dripping with accusation and disbelief at what he was already starting to assume to be true.

Her eyes widened considerably as she hurriedly replied, "No, no. Just… I just need you to listen. Today I was getting lunch and an older couple sat across from me. And the woman ordered for the both of them, and the man was carrying on about not wanting to be predictable even though he's ordered the same thing every time for years, and they were laughing, and it's not that I think I'm predictable or anything, that's not the point, the point is that I _saw us _there, in the future, however many years we may still be alive, and I need to know that you're serious about this. Because I think I really love you. Not just the kind where you say 'I love you' to each other, but I love you in that way that I think I need you. And I've never felt like this before since it's always just been me. And I… I just need you to know that I'm serious. I want us to be that couple in the restaurant."

After the initial relief that she wasn't breaking up with him and the fractional moment of shock, he started to grin – one of his stupid half-smirks, half genuine smiles.

Suddenly his cheek stung, and it took him a moment to put two and two together.

"Don't _do _that!" she yelled at him, pushing his chest. "You have to say something, you idiot – "

"I need you too," he told her gently and pulled her into his arms. She didn't resist (surprise) and leaned up to kiss his cheek softly where she had hit him. "And of course I'm serious. You know I'm too lazy to waste my time if I wasn't."

She seemed contented with his answer.

"I just have one question," he said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice as she looked up at him expectantly. "Couldn't you have waited until next week when you're due here? Now you've got to go all the way back and then leave again a few days later… so troublesome."

It couldn't have been a more obvious set up, but she appreciated it nonetheless as it broke the serious air about their conversation.

"True, now that I've told you what I needed to, I should probably head back," she agreed, eyes flashing mischievously as she settled back into her normal routine.

"Or maybe you just shouldn't go back," he said, catching her waist as she tried to teasingly roll away. "Ever."

His teeth caught her neck, causing her breath to catch and gooseflesh to ripple out across her skin.

"I can't believe you just cried over me," he breathed in her ear, his hands trailing down her sides and making her squirm.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," she hissed, pressing him back so that he didn't have a choice but to roll over. "Tell anybody, and you won't live to be that old man in the restaurant."

"Trouble – " he began but was (not regrettably) unable to finish his complaint.


End file.
